


Hard to Swallow

by RottenBoneThief



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Bugs and shit yo, Gen, Horror, Insectophobia, Medical, Parasite - Freeform, Torture, Vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 17:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12259065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RottenBoneThief/pseuds/RottenBoneThief
Summary: Sano’s running an experiment. Unfortunately for you, it involves some tests that are a little hard to swallow. Written for Day 1 of Goretober: Medical. Tags/Warnings: Some Nasty Bug Shit yo. Like real nasty. Also Vomit.





	Hard to Swallow

Sano watches you, scribbling down something on a clipboard, taking note of your blood pressure, of your vitals, of the way your body twitches and trembles as you try to move. He has you on his operating table, two large belt straps holding you down, one tight across your thighs, the other over your chest and arms, making it impossible to do more than struggle. He’s pulled a hooked spider gag over your mouth, tightened it against your lips, and now you’re just drooling, the saliva puddling underneath your head.

“Do you like insects?” You can’t answer. You can hardly do more than make a dumb little sound, but he nods and grins at you, as if you’ve fully articulated a yes or no to him. He adjusts his glasses, sitting beside you on the table, leaning over you. You’re shaking, eyes wide, a wild stare behind them. 

“I really hope that you do, otherwise our tests may prove, how do I put this? Well, you may not like them.” The words hold heavy in the air and you can feel panic start to churn your insides.

Do you like Insects? Bugs? Your brain has shifted into overdrive. Spiders and cockroaches are the first things that you think of and your writhing is becoming more desperate. Why does it have to be bugs?

“Did you know that the centipede isn’t actually classified as an insect?” He’s still sitting beside you, brushing a hair from your face, his calculating eyes softer than you’d seen them before. You shake your head some, just tilting it side to side, hoping to effectively communicate a ‘no’. It seems to work. Sano perks up, standing back up, making his way over to a desk. You can’t see what he’s doing, you can hardly strain your neck enough to look up.

“I have a fondness for them, centipedes, I mean.” He turns back to you, holding a specimen jar, but you can’t see what’s in it. You don’t have to see, really, you can pretty much make the mental leap here. You start thrashing against the restraints, trying to bite against the gag, trying to do just about anything.

You’re doing nothing. All you’re doing is tiring your body out. You don’t seem to care, though, because you keep struggling and whimpering, eyes welling up as fear and adrenaline keep pushing you to try harder.

Sano looks down at you, his eyes wide and excited, a smile playing on his lips.

“We’re going to test something today. I’m sure you won’t enjoy this, at all really, but I assure you, I will.” That is not reassuring at all. Not even remotely. You’re getting nowhere squirming and you can hardly see through the tears in your eyes and it feels like you’re gagging on your own saliva. You can feel the burning of the leather straps against your skin as you continue to rub against them and try to worm out of the grip.

You have to keep trying. That’s all you can tell yourself as Sano steps closer, unscrewing the lid from the jar, letting a long, black centipede crawl out. It unfurls from the glass, crawling up his arm, and it feels never-ending. It’s enormous, way longer than any centipede is supposed to be, even you know that. You’d seen them online, as long as someone's arm, but this one is thick, fat, crawling along Sano’s shoulders now. It’s like a snake in the way it moves, draping over the back of his shoulder, resting along his arm.

Sano steps back over to you and you shake your head, violently. You’re pushing your face to the side, trying to hide from him and his pet, you’re closing your eyes and tight as you can, your toes are curling and you’re hoping everything will go away. You feel Sano sit back down beside you and you tense, the nerves in your body tight as they can get. 

You’re going to give yourself a muscle cramp like that.

“Relax now. Everything’s alright.” Is he talking to you or the Centipede? You can’t tell. You’re staying as tightly shut in on yourself as you can, but it isn’t working. You feel his weight shift against the table, you feel him against you. He’s whispering and you can’t hear it, you can only feel him leaning in closer.

It’s on you. Your breath catches in your lungs and your eyes open as a reflex. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. Its little legs poke into your skin as it walks its way across you, lumbering up your torso. You can’t stop the pathetic sounds leaving your body. You’re shaking and crying and the centipede is moving up along you. If you close your eyes it will go away, right? That’s what you’ve pretty much always told yourself. When you’re under your blanket at it feels like someone's standing over you, when you’re home alone and there’s a noise in the kitchen, close your eyes and it will go away.

You feel it stepping over the belt around your arms and soon its little legs are digging against your chest, up your collar bone. If you open your eyes now, it will be right there. You’re horrified. What is it going to do? What is the experiment here?! You can’t shut your mouth. You want it shut as tight as your eyes but the metal of the gag is keeping it pried open. The centipede’s entire body is across yours and all you can feel are its legs and paralyzing fear. Your hands are trembling, your entire body is trembling, and its little legs are against your throat, making its way up your chin. It’s crawling onto your face now, but your eyes are shut. Your eyes are shut and it’s not going away. You feel the legs sink into the softness of your lips.

You feel the legs connect with your teeth.

You feel the legs prickle against your tongue.

The centipede is crawling into your mouth. Your eyes fly open wide and you're panicking. You’re going to vomit, you’re going to drown in your own vomit, that’s all you can think, that’s the only way this could end. Its antennae are tickling the roof of your mouth and it’s making your skin crawl. You can feel the gag against your teeth, keeping your mouth open. You start fighting with it, fighting against it anyway you can, pushing it with your tongue, trying. It’s tight, but not as tight as it could be. You’re thinking to yourself, if you could open your mouth wider, just a little bit wider, you could push it in front of your teeth. You hadn’t thought about that until now, you hadn’t been panicking enough until now, apparently.

You hear your jaw pop in your ears and your temples are throbbing, but the metal ring of the gag does what you want it too. It pushes forward enough that you can’t shut your mouth, but you can shut your teeth.

The centipede has made it’s way to your throat, and you do what human instinct tells you to. You crunch. You bite down as hard as you can, your teeth chomping clean through the centipede. Its body twitches and hisses and you’re coughing and thrashing. The little legs are spasming against the inside of your mouth and you’re trying so desperately to spit it up, to get the thing out of your mouth. Its legs are digging into your tongue, into your gums, into the roof of your mouth. It’s curling inside of you, trying to save itself, but it’s completely split in half, its insides filled with a sickly brown, the substance oozing into your mouth.

You’re going to vomit.

“That was… unexpected.” Sano doesn’t look amused, not in the slightest. He’s watching you cough and choke and gag against his centipede and the metal ring in your mouth and honestly, you’re tiring him. He sighs, reaching into your mouth, grabbing up one half of his pet, throwing it off to the side. You can’t see anything. You can hardly breath. Your eyes are flooded with tears and the front half of the centipede is slowly sliding against your uvula, trickling down your esophagus. You’re going to choke to death at this rate

“Keep your mouth open and do not bite me.” You’re trying to do as he says, your lips still pried open wide, your teeth parted, tongue trying desperately to push everything in your mouth OUT.

Sano reaches in and pulls the rest of the bug from your mouth, its limp legs scraping along the inside of your throat as he pulls it out of you. You turn your head to the side and finally let yourself throw up, trying to spit the taste out of your mouth, trying to get the little bits and pieces out. 

You just want it out, you want all of it OUT.

You’re trembling, you’re shaking, and you still can’t move, but you can breathe. Despite the disgusting taste on your lips and in your mouth, the centipede, the vomit, your own blood at this point, you’re alive.

Sano chucks that half of the centipede with the other and picks his clipboard back up, writing in notes about you. ‘Stubborn and resilient’. He looks over you for a moment and shakes his head, laughing just a bit.

“I don’t really like surprises but, that was interesting to say the least” He undoes the spider hook gag, looking over your tear stained face. He studies your wild eyes, your trembling form. He looks at the vomit and his nose wrinkles.

“I suppose I should bring you a glass of water.” He glances at the clipboard one last time, pencil hovering over the words “Experiment: Success [ ] or Failure [ ]”. He thinks for a moment before penciling in “Not quite sure yet.”.

You’ve intrigued him.


End file.
